


Debrief

by Geenee27



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geenee27/pseuds/Geenee27
Summary: Phryne Fisher and Elizabeth Macmillan are enjoying a night out on the town, as two kindred spirits should.





	Debrief

The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher peered over her champagne cocktail glass, a twinkle in her eye as she quietly observed her 'date' for the evening moving around the dance floor to the seductive strains of a Duke Wellington song. Her 'date' looked quite fetching in a short black beaded flapper dress which clacked as she tapped her matching Mary Janes and swayed her hips. The lovely young blonde she held at arms length as they dipped and swung smiled brightly back at her, laughing, her whole face lit up.

Phryne was so very happy she had been able to talk her friend Mac into a night out, albeit on the promise of some undercover work too intriguing to be turned down. The good doctor deserved a night of fun and the fact they were enjoying it incognito just added to the adventure. Phryne was reminded again with sadness and not a little annoyance that her friend was quite often unable to be herself outside of the hospital or morgue, as her lifestyle was still looked on with derision by certain members of society. And unfortunately it was illegal, which confirmed to Miss Fisher that the law was still 'an ass'.

The two friends had been through the wars together, both literally and figuratively, and Phryne never forgot that she was so blessed to have this woman, this kindred spirit, in her life.

The music came to a end and Mac excused herself from her dance partner, pantomiming that she was going to hunt down a drink and whispered in the young woman's ear that she would find her later. The latter flashed a smile and danced away. Mac then looked around and finally spying Phyrne made her way towards where the lady detective was draped on a bar stool, appearing to be nonchalantly scanning the crowd. As Mac reached the bar, Phyrne held out a neat tumbler containing an aged, peaty whiskey and Mac took it eagerly, her face flushed and her breathing quick.

Phryne leaned in close, ostensibly to scold her wayward paramour.

“Well, you certainly are good at this undercover thing, I could almost think you were enjoying yourself 'Maude'.”

“I am, but you are doing a lousy job of pretending to be my jealous lover 'Fern', just standing there grinning like a lovesick fool.”

“I am the type that just gives you enough slack on the leash before I reel you back in,” Phryne glared playfully.

Phryne, under the guise of 'Fern', had decided to play slightly with gender tonight, dressed in a dark maroon tweed suit coat with matching vest and beautifully tailored pleated trousers the Fleuri sisters had created for her. She smiled as she recalled the feel of the golden silk tie as she knotted it around her neck and how it flowed through her fingers as she tucked it into the vest. She really did have a thing for ties. She looked down at her feet to the two toned maroon and cream brogues she was wearing and even though it was not her usual style it felt very freeing, a little daring and certainly avaunt guard. _I wonder what a certain detective inspector would think of ......_

Suddenly there appeared to be a commotion at the other side of the crowded room, followed by the piercing shrill of a whistle , then the sound of several whistles. There were cries of surprise as people fled to the darker corners and recesses of the room, women were grabbing coats and bags and men were looking around for means of escape. Mac had stopped in mid drink and looked over in Phryne's direction, then glowered when she caught the latter rolling her eyes.

 

Phryne slid off her bar stool, stretched up on tiptoe to look over the heads of the scurrying patrons and was unsurprised to see the tall leather helmets of the constables trying to push into the room. Things quickly became a little chaotic as persons scattered like cockroaches and she continued to peer over it all until she found what she was looking for, a very familiar brown fedora making its way into the crowd as well.

“Police! Calmly stay were you are, we don't want anyone to get hurt.” That deliciously low baritone voice ..... , she saw a large hand shoot up to present credentials. Phryne could barely suppress her glee, this was going to be fun. Not only was she adorned in a beautifully cut three piece suit, Phryne was wearing a blonde wig, awash with glorious curls and a black fedora. She wondered how long it would take for him to recognize her. Apparently not long.

“Well, well Miss ... ah... Fern”, came the sigh of resignation as he stood before her and slowly raked his eyes from the tips of her well polished shoes to the jaunty tilt of her hat. The policeman was looking quite stern to those around them but the slight flash in his eyes told her he was mostly amused. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a set a handcuffs that he dangled before her, making her eyes widen and then darken.

She looked up at him without apology and said scornfully in her thickest Collingwood drawl “I'm not afraid of you copper. I got rights.“ She was definitely enjoying this; the words were dragged out in an loud, elongated manner and not a little seductively. She then lifted up her wrists and dared him, smirking.

A drunken gentleman lurched beside her, turned at her belligerent police protest and decided a knight in shining armour was needed.

“Hey, wha'sha doin', lay off, you can't do that. Get yer hands off her.” The senior policeman turned to the lout and opened his mouth to explain politely that he did indeed have the right as an officer of the law to detain this quite blatant criminal when the drunk swung and the melee began. Uniforms pounced on said drunk and disorderly and in the roomfilled brawl that erupted Phyrne lost track of her suspect and just about everyone else. She felt someone gently grab her by the elbow, she grabbed Mac's hand and eventually they found their way outside and safely ensconced in a cab. It happened so fast that later Phyrne had a hard time recalling exactly what had happened.

*******************

There were birds tweeting somewhere, she was pretty sure it was birds although everything was a little foggy. Phryne could remember a few times when she had felt worse in the morning, though not many. Her head pounded, her feet hurt, just about everything muscle in her body was tired and sore. Even trying to crack an eyelid had her brain protesting and telling her not to move anything. Her mouth felt as dry as the Sahara sands and she would know, having being stranded there with a nomadic tribe once.

Her immediate thoughts were a little fuzzy as well. Something about a night out with her wing woman, the incomparable Dr. Elizabeth Macmillan. A darkened smoke filled room, the music was jumping and bodies wreathed around a dance floor. Beautiful people flitting from flower to flower.

They really had had a marvellous time, well at least the part of the evening she was currently barely remembering. Mac flirting and dancing with various lovely young things and Phryne pretending to play the jealous lover. They had argued and laughed and toasted and felt like kids they once were.

She shifted slightly and realized she was comfortably ensconced in a luxuriously soft bed, cover pulled up to her nose. She could tell there was sunlight beyond her eyelids and tried again to open one ever so slowly. Nope... too much light. What time was it?

She shifted again and tried not to moan. Her stomach was doing flip flops as well. Might have had a little too much grog last night she reasoned. She was in need of one of Mr. B's magic elixirs. What all did she do last night?

She lay there debating whether it would be too much trouble to move to find some headache powders or a cup of strong coffee. Perhaps a nice warm bath would ease her suffering. Just a few more minutes in her warm cocoon to slowly ease into this morning business.

As she lay there she took inventory of the various aches and pains throughout and realized that not all them were of an unpleasant nature. In fact, she was quite content to discover that certain areas of her body tingled quite pleasurably and she recognized the lovely feeling of being quite thoroughly sated. This brought a smile to her lips and she slowly rolled over onto her back to finally greet the sunlight peaking through the bedroom curtains. Her bedroom curtains. And windows. Well, she made it home at least, at a still undetermined hour.

There was a glass of water on the night stand and she vaguely remembered someone raising it to her lips to take a drink in the dark. She lifted her head up a little, then lowered it again, this time not being able to suppress a small groan. She blew stands of black glossy hair from her face and tried to gather her wits again.

Something about a sojourn to an out of the way jazz club, ostensibly to sleuth and drink and dance and flirt with beautiful young things. But there was something else she was forgetting. Oh right, a surreptitious staking out of a crafty crime lord, in his favourite haunt, for her latest case; a man purported to be the leader of a crew involved a string of warehouse heists targeting some of the wealthiest business people in Melbourne. In other words, her Aunt P's cronies.

A case she also had somehow innocently forgotten to share with the current senior detective inspector and head of City South Police station. Potentially awkward as he was a very good friend and one had she had made the unfortunate mistake of becoming quite fond of. Especially if one's investigative activities did not strictly following the letter of the law so to speak. Very unfortunate.

As she lay there quietly gathering herself she became aware of a soft sound to her left and eased her head towards the source. It was a gentle breathing in and out, not exactly a snore. And there was definitely a lump in the duvet, underneath from which the noise emanated. Oh dear. She was not alone.

Phryne's slowly reached her hand out from under the covers and pulled them down slightly to uncover the source of the breathing. She saw the top of a head appear, covered in messy light brown curls. As she watched, the head moved, a face slowly surfaced and a pair of hooded deep blue eyes peered blearily at her. There followed a frown to the brow and a very familiar grumpy look.

And unfortunately one of the usually lovely deep blue eyes was somewhat marred by an ugly purplish swollen bruise. The evening before suddenly came flooding back and she bit her bottom lip.

“I can explain.”

The figure beside her tuned onto its side to face her fully and with a steady look and deep, sleepy voice replied. “I believe you have just found my epitaph, Miss Fisher.”

She waved a hand airily, knowing this was going to take delicate work but nothing that she had not been able to handle before. Diplomacy was her middle name after all.

“Don't be like that Jack. I was on a case.”

Silence.

“I was following a person of interest on suspicion of carrying off a number of warehouse heists. “ She pronounced confidently, convinced this explained and absolved all.

The previously mentioned senior detective inspector and head of City South police station closed his eyes and started to count to ten.

“I wasn't alone. I took Mac with me and Bert and Cec were right outside in the alley.” Phryne played some of her face cards, sure that this would placate.

“The place was open after hours, serving illegally, and full of known wanted gangsters and thugs,” he felt compelled to point out knowing it would go unheeded.

“Well isn't it fortunate you had the foresight to send your men in to shut down such a den of inequity, “ she simpered at him knowing damn well he would not be amused, but any chance to goad him.

“Yes, imagine my surprise to find who we scooped up in the raid.”

“Good night's work I'd say, I can put my case to bed after you get a search warrant for my suspect's base of operations and you have your wanted gangsters.”

“You might have mentioned this trip to the more interesting side of town beforehand.”

“You know me Jack, I work spontaneously.” That elicited a perturbed scoff.

“Yes, well that doesn't help me write a report about how the nefarious Fern and her girlfriend escaped somehow in the melee.”

“Oh, thank Hugh for me, he was very gallant.”

“Commandeering Victorian Police constables for your own ......” Phryne raised a finger to his lips.

“Oh my dear Inspector, I am so sorry your evening did not go to plan... ” She gingerly caressed the swollen part of his face and then pointedly indicated the number of articles of clothes scattered around room, particularly a pair of men's undershorts draped over the handle of the bedroom door.

He reached over to gather her in his arms and lay his cheek against her forehead. Debrief over – for now.


End file.
